


A Token of Affection

by broodywolf



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, zevran's earring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodywolf/pseuds/broodywolf
Summary: Zevran told her the earring wasn't a token of affection. The moment he sees it hanging from her ear, he realizes how wrong he had been.





	1. Chapter 1

Lyna gave him a shy smile as she sat cross-legged on the ground next to him. She reached up to sweep her hair out of her face, revealing a hoop of gold—an earring, _his_ earring—dangling from the lobe of her delicately pointed ear.

Zevran froze, unable to tear his eyes off it. He should—he should feel _happy,_ he should be pleased to see her wear the earring he had given her. His token, as much as he tried to avoid calling it such. But the feeling roiling in his gut, clenching in his chest… it was _wrong._ It was guilt and anguish and revulsion—not at her, but at _himself._

_What had he done?_

“Excuse me, Warden, I must—”

Words failed him and he broke off _,_ scrambling to his feet in his haste to get away from the campsite, to be alone with his thoughts before he did something terrible. He ran through the trees until he could no longer hear the sounds of Leliana cooking or Alistair and Morrigan bickering.

_Silence._ Or as close to it as one could get in the middle of a forest, anyway. In the relative quiet his thoughts echoed in his head, and he collapsed against the trunk of a tree, his face in his hands.

The earring was a mistake. He had convinced himself it didn’t mean anything, it was a simple payment for services rendered. He laughed dully to himself. What a fool he was. No matter his words at the time, he had presented Lyna with a token of affection.

And she had accepted it.

_Braska._ Who was he to claim her so? He was a tool, a puppet, a _killer,_ playing at love. What had he done, what had he _ever_ done in his pathetic life to think he could be worthy of _her?_ She was laughter and sunshine, a savior, a friend, a _hero._ He was a blade in the shadows. He would only bring her destruction, just like—

He bit off the thought with a harsh cry, his hands clenching into fists. He stared at them, his lip curling in disgust. Hands that were calloused, worn, _filthy._ He should never have touched her with these hands.

This… _thing_ between them, whatever it was, it had to stop. He would not leave; he had sworn an oath to her, and he would see it done. But he would remember his place. He was a weapon. One more blade between his Warden and the darkspawn. When this was all over, he would leave, and her life would be better for it.

A deep _whuff_ startled him out of his thoughts, and he had a dagger leveled at the source of the sound before he recognized it as Lyna’s mabari, Bear.

“You should not startle a person like that,” he said to the dog.

Bear growled in response, walking around him. A wet nose prodded at his arm.

“Leave me be.”

Another _whuff,_ and then he suddenly he found himself with a lapful of dog. A very _heavy_ lapful of dog.

“ _Braska!_ Perro loco,” he grumbled, trying in vain to shove the dog off his legs. He sighed when it was obvious the dog wouldn’t budge, and collapsed backwards against the tree. “You are crushing my legs, Bear.”

Bear let out a sharp bark in agreement.

“I don’t suppose you would be kind enough to move?” Zevran asked, frustration getting the better of him as he shoved uselessly at the great lump of a dog.

A growl. Zevran took that as a _no._

“Is there a reason you are doing this?”

Bear leaned up and licked a massive stripe up Zevran’s face, leaving him dripping with dog slobber.

“That was disgusting, Bear,” he muttered, despite the laugh that escaped him at Bear’s enthusiastic bark of response.

“Zev?”

Lyna’s voice cut through the quiet, and Bear’s ears perked up at once.

“Over here,” he said, letting his head fall back against the tree. A moment latter Lyna appeared, her eyes going wide when she saw him.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! _Bear!”_ she called, and then let out a sharp whistle. Bear leapt up and ran to her side. “Go back to camp, Bear.”

The low _whuff_ Bear gave didn’t sound terribly pleased, but he retreated towards the campsite as instructed.

“I’m sorry about him. He does that to me all the time. Is… is something wrong?” she asked.

“What? No. Why?”

“Sorry, I just—he usually does that to me when I’ve had a bad day. His way of trying to cheer people up, I suppose.”

“Oh,” Zevran said. “No, I am fine.”

“You sure?” Lyna asked, holding out a hand to help him up. He took it, letting her pull him to his feet.

“Of course,” he said, letting a smile slide onto his face.

“Well, good,” she said. “We should get back to camp before the others start to worry.”

Zevran nodded, and they walked back in silence.

“Care to join me in my tent tonight?” She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling in the dim light of the moon. It would have been so easy to say yes, to slip into her tent that night, as he had so many times. _He couldn’t_ , he reminded himself. This was for the best.

“No.” He said it with too much force, and Lyna recoiled physically. “I… no. I mean no offense, I simply… no.”

Lyna’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I do not wish to talk about it.”

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything, Zev.”

“Enough!” he spat. “I said I am not interested. Can you not understand that? There are other things for you to focus on besides me, I am certain. Do… do those!”

Lyna took a step back, staring at him. After a moment she recovered herself, mouth snapping shut.

“Fine,” she snapped. She spun on her heel, marching across the small camp to the other side of the fire. Zevran retreated to his tent. After that show, the least he could do was spare her his presence for the rest of the night. He collapsed onto his bedroll, turning his face into the ragged blankets.

_Fool, fool, fool,_ his mind screamed at him. He shut his eyes, and prayed for sleep to take him quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

Lyna found Zevran in a disused sitting room, staring into the fire. His shoulders sagged in a way that was unlike him. Things had been awkward between them ever since he’d given her the earring, doubly so since she had asked him to her tent and he’d refused. Zevran had gone from being cold and distant to being… _hesitant,_ like he wished to reach out to her but stopped himself each time. He joked less, rarely laughed, and there was a sadness in his eyes that she couldn’t bear. She knew that one of them had to bridge this horrible distance between them, and if he wouldn’t then it would have to be her.

“Hey, Zev,” she said softly, stepping forward into the room.

“Warden,” he greeted with a smile that faded too quickly.

“You’ve been different, lately,” Lyna said with a frown.

Zevran sighed, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Hmm, I thought this might be it. Are you certain you with to talk about this?” He glanced around them, but the room and the hallway beyond it were empty. It seemed Arl Eamon’s household retired early. “I… really do not know what to say.”

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Lyna said. “It’s just… I miss you, Zev. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“You’re right. I’ve been acting like a child. I apologize. Let me try to explain.” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something. “I have not been honest with you, amor.”

“Zev? What do you mean?”

“When I gave you this,” he said, reaching up to touch the earring, caressing the delicate taper of her ear.

Lyna frowned, unsure what he meant.

“Do you know what ‘mi amor’ means in Antivan?”

“I figured it was a pet name,” she said, hiding her confusion behind a smile as she brought her hand to his cheek. “Why?”

She felt his soft huff of breath against her wrist as he turned into her hand, looking away from her.

“This is… difficult for me, you must understand. I do not know how to…”

“Zev,” she said softly, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. “What does ‘mi amor’ mean?” She said it gently, not ceasing the soothing motion of her thumb along his cheek, his temple.

When he looked back up to meet her gaze, there was such a maelstrom of emotion there it took a moment for her to register that his eyes were also wide with fear.

“Zev?”

She couldn’t help but be a little concerned now; what could possibly be so difficult for him to say? She felt the muscles clench in his jaw as he swallowed thickly. He laid his hand over hers on his cheek as though afraid she’d withdraw it otherwise.

“It means ‘my love.’”

It took her a minute to even process what he was trying to tell her. _Mi amor_. If she had found out the meaning of the phrase before, she’d have thought it was just something he was saying. She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but the way he was acting now… _My love_. He meant it, she realized, and felt she might fall apart if not for his hand holding hers to his face, tethering her to him. _Love_.

She kissed him. There was nothing else she _could_ do because her brain still hadn’t caught up with this revelation enough to form words and the fear and hope on Zevran’s face was quickly turning to regret and heartbreak, so she hooked her fingers behind his jaw to pull him to her, pressing her lips to his desperately. Creators, she had missed this. He wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her like a lifeline, his fingers tangling in her short hair.

“ _Lyna_ ,” he said when he finally pulled back, panting.

“Zev,” she answered, a hint of a smirk playing about her lips, and he smiled brilliantly at her. She took his face in both of her hands, kissed him again, softly. “ _Ma vhenan_ ,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. His fingers dug into her back, pulling her closer, and she knew he understood.

He kissed her again, gently, _lovingly._ His lips ghosted across her cheek, trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“Come to my room?” she said breathlessly. “Please, Zev.”

“Yes,” he said simply, gazing into her eyes. The word sounded like a promise, a declaration. He dropped his hands from her face, intertwining his fingers with hers instead. “Lead the way, mi amor.”


End file.
